


Blood of the Banshee

by Ravenclaw1991



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, major spoilers for 3x23
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 05:11:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1333246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclaw1991/pseuds/Ravenclaw1991
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm not giving you a summary because it would be a big spoiler for 3x23.. Just know that I fixed the end of the episode. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood of the Banshee

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in like 30 minutes, taking a break from my current WIP 'Forbidden' to write this because I was so upset. I refuse to believe she is dead... So forgive the not-so-greatness of this. I just had to get the general idea out there. 
> 
> This is all there is to this fic, I won't be continuing it.

Lydia Martin had her mind made up. She was  _not_ lo sing her best friend. Death would _not_  take Allison Argent from her. No sir. Yes, Allison had just died in Scott's arms only a few nights before, but if Lydia had a say, it wasn't going to stay permanent.

That’s why she was currently hammering on a door in the middle of the night. The lock clicked on the other side and it swung open.

A bleary eyed Stiles Stilinski stood there, rubbing his eyes. He still looked a like death. The first step in their mourning of Allison had been to destroy the nogitsune. Then everyone went to mourn in their own way. Lydia, however, refused to mourn. 

"I need help," she told him.

"With?" he asked slowly.

"We’re getting her back."

Stiles blinked and scratched his head, yawning. "What?"

"Allison. I found a way to get her back and I need help."

"Lydia-" Stiles sounded like he was going to lecture her.

"Whatever you were going to say you better keep it to yourself, Stilinski. Your best friend fought tirelessly to save you. Now you're going help me save mine."

Stiles threw his hands in the air and allowed Lydia to come in. She headed straight up to his room and perched herself on his trashed bed. Clearly someone had been sleeping restlessly. He sat in his desk chair and rolled it closer.

"Are you going to tell me why you're dressed like a cat burglar?" Stiles asked, observing the fact that Lydia was wearing all black. 

"Never you mind. You'll find out soon enough. Anyway, I knew that veterinarian was holding out on us, so I took some liberties."

"You didn't." Lydia's look answered that. "He has a security system. "

Lydia nodded. "Like that could keep me out.. I ransacked his office and ran across this." 

She pulled a book out of her bag. 

"What is it?"

The title was in Archaic Latin, so he couldn't read it. She translated it for him.

"A book on necromancy."

Stiles' eyes widened. "Oh, no. That's dark stuff, Lydia. And didn't we learn about that the hard way when Peter used you to bring himself back?"

Lydia gave him a look. "Its not the same. This isn't using anyone and it works on anyone. We just need a few simple ingredients, which I also procured. Also, we need a new moon, which happens to be tonight." The darkness on the night of a new moon made it easier to do dark magic, not that she would be telling Stiles that. 

He sighed in defeat. "Fine, what do we do?"

She pulled a syringe out of her bag next. 

"I need you to help me draw some of my blood. The blood of a banshee is crucial."  Stiles looked at the needle and started to look woozy. She slapped him across the face. "Don't you dare faint."

After a shaky five minutes, they had a vial of her blood. 

"What now?"

She started pulling glass jars out of her bag. Stiles probably recognized them from the vet's office. 

"Now we add the rest of the ingredients."

Stiles fetched a bowl at her request and they emptied her blood into it and set to work. Lydia added pinches of weird dried herbs. There were two liquids she'd never heard of before. Finally, a pinch of mistletoe.

"Lydia, will this work on someone who's been dead longer?"

She looked at him and frowned. "Only a few months. It won't work on your mom, Stiles. Sorry."

He shook his head. "I meant Erica and Boyd. They didn't deserve to die either, we could bring them back."

Lydia was taken aback by that. She didn't think Stiles would say mention them. It made her smile. "One step ahead of you." There were three clean syringes in her bag. "Go put on black, it'll make it harder to be seen in the cemetery and I don't know about you, but I don't want to be arrested for grave robbing."

He stood up and moved across the room toward his dresser. Stiles didn't even argue with her on that. She kept her back to him and started filling the syringes as he changed his clothes. 

Twenty minutes later, they were pulling up in front of  the chained gates at Beacon Hills Cemetery. 

"I didn't think this through," Lydia admitted. "How are we supposed to get in?"

"I got this," Stiles said and he clambered out of his jeep. He dug in the back and headed toward the gates carrying bolt cutters. He cut through the chains and shoved the gates open. "There," he told her when he got back in.

When they got to the grave they got out. On the tombstone, under Allison's name, was her new code. ' _N_ _ous p rotégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-même._' Lydia tore her eyes a way and they grabbed the shovels out of the jeep and set to work.

He looked like death, but Stiles was working ferociously. It took a shorter amount of time than Lydia anticipated to strike the wooden coffin. They cracked it open and came face to face with Allison. Her eyes were closed, hands laced over her stomach. She was in a beautiful white dress that Chris Argent asked Lydia to pick out. 

"She looks like she's sleeping," Stiles whispered. 

Lydia nodded and sniffed. "That's because she is. As soon as I give her this," she waved the syringe, "and say the words in the book, she'll wake up. I kind of don't want anyone to know we did this , so when we're done, we need to leave fast. Before she wakes up."

Stiles didn't question why she didn't want anyone to know. He probably already knew. Even though the ones they lost would be back, the others would still be angry that she did something so stupid and reckless. What if they came back as zombies and they had to kill them all over again?

"What if they come back as zombies though?" Stiles asked ask though he had just read her mind. 

"The thought came to mind," Lydia admitted. "If that happens, we'll just have to find a zombie cure because I'm not doing this for nothing."

Lydia climbed down into the hole and injected the potion they made into Allison's arm. Stiles handed her the book and she read the short passage from it and then he helped her climb back out.

The effect was instantaneous. Color flooded back into Allison's face. She drew a rattling breath. Her eyelashes fluttered and her fingers twitched. Lydia dropped a note she had written onto Allison's stomach. 

Stiles was staring in shock at what they had done but Lydia grabbed him. They tossed their stuff into the jeep and sped off. 

"What was on the paper that you left?"

"A note. I changed my handwriting for it, so don't worry. It was to tell her the date and let her know she hasn't been gone long and that she should immediately find her way home, to her dad." She let the fact that Allison was coming back sink in then asked, "I trust you know where Derek buried Erica and Boyd?"

"Of course, I do."

Stiles floored the gas and sped down the road.

**Author's Note:**

> No, they don't return as actual zombies. They return as themselves. :)


End file.
